Picking Up the Pieces
by ScourgifyMyBrain
Summary: She spends her days at the window. Nobody knows what she is waiting for or what is wrong. Will he ever come back home or will she waste away, waiting for him? Sequel to "Letting Go…"


**Picking Up The Pieces**

**Pairing:** Hermione/Bill

**Prequel:** Letting Go…

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **She spends her days at the window. No one can tell what's wrong. Will he let go and come back home or will she waste away waiting for him? **Sequel to "Letting Go…"**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything you find familiar. The characters and the places this fic do not belong to me, they belong to JK Rowling and the countries they are from.

It had been a month since Hermione had returned to the Burrow. Each day had dawned with disillusioned hope, and waned with subtle disappointment. The hope of seeing him again was seeping out of her - slowly but surely taking away her love for living. She spent each day by the window- everyone could see her smile fading into oblivion. No one knew what she was waiting for or looking for on the horizon, but the light in her big brown eyes had begun to dim. It took all her physical and emotional strength to keep from Apparating to where she knew he was. No one ever questioned her. They never asked why she didn't cry, or why she had come back before finishing her assignment, or why she sat at the window. When they sat outside, her eyes were fixed on the path which led to the Burrow, but nobody ever asked her why, because they knew she wouldn't reply.

It had been three days since she had stopped. Stopped sitting by the window, stopped looking down the road, stopped smiling the soft morning smile that faded by afternoon. She had been outside sitting with Ginny, reading a book. When she heard Fred and George scream from the bank of the pond, she ignored them, thinking they were playing another one of their stupid pranks. However, when she heard Ginny gasp, then get up and run toward the Burrow, she turned around quickly, her eyes lighting up with hope. Sure enough he was standing there.

Fred, George, Ron, Harry, Charlie, and a very pregnant Ginny were embracing him. His hair was falling out of his pony-tail, hiding his fanged earring and framing his scarred face. He looked perfect. His face had a smile on it - a smile she knew was genuine. His intense blue eyes were looking at her, focusing on her intently. He was smiling because of her. All heads turned when they heard a cry. . Molly was walking tentatively toward the huddle. Her quivering hands reached up to Bill's face. She had tears in her eyes- tears she'd held back since she'd killed her own traitorous son. As Bill held his mother, both crying tears of joy and relief, Hermione finally trusted herself enough to move closer. Bill was aware of her presence. When Molly was finally able to let go of Bill, she didn't waste any time. She wasn't going to let her son leave again. She held his hand and pulled him into the house. The twins carried Bill's things up to his room.

They had the right to want to be with him. They were his family, and they hadn't seen him in more than five years. She was happy again. She sat in the living room, listening to them talk, enjoying their conversation, but refraining from participating. When she looked up from her book to sneak a peek, he was looking at her, his gaze penetrating, a small smile playing on his lips. Hermione smiled shyly in return.

Hermione couldn't sleep that night. She kept tossing and turning. She went down to the kitchen, careful to avoid the squeaking step and quietly slipping past Harry and Ginny's room. She poured herself a glass of water and went outside to stand on the porch, leaning on the post for support as she gazed up at the stars, and closing her eyes as the cold wind brushed past her.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she dropped her glass in surprise and turned quickly, bracing herself for the sound of shattering glass which never came. She looked up and was greeted by a pair of intense blue eyes. They stood like that for what seemed an eternity; both gazing into each other's contrasting eyes.

"Thank You." His words broke her out of her trance.

"What…?' she breathed.

"You helped me to realise what I kept denying. I thought nobody loved me anymore, and you showed me differently. Thank You. Thank you for being there, for giving me her letter, for leaving me yours, for …" Hermione held her hand up to his mouth to stop him from speaking, and he looked at her questioningly. She felt him shudder when she touched him. They were so close that she could feel his muscles tense, and then relax. She traced every scar on his face. Nobody had touched him this way since Fleur had died. He closed his eyes, letting her explore his face with her soft fingers. Her palm opened and she caressed his face, and he sighed. His eyelids fluttered open when he felt her hand withdraw. Tears were cascading down her face. He wiped them away with his rough calloused hands. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to look at him.

"What took you so long, Bill? I waited and I waited and…" What happened next she could not understand. His lips were pressed against hers, and she cried, putting all of her emotions into that one kiss. Her arms twined around his neck, and his encircled her waist protectively.

When they drew apart, Hermione felt as though she couldn't breathe. She just pulled down on his neck - holding him, kissing him. When Bill pulled away, she felt numbed by the sudden cold and turned away. He caught hold of her arm, turning her around to face him again. She looked up at him, a pained question lingering behind the threatening tears.

"Don't leave me Hermione. My heart just healed. I doubt it'd be able to take another blow," he stated, pulling at her arm, hoping she would come into his arms again. She did, and this time, when he drew back to look into her eyes, he wasn't afraid or unsure.

When he bent to kiss her, they were both ready for it. It started slowly and politely, and when she felt his tongue seek permission into her mouth, she allowed him entry. He insisted, and she relented. In return, she received what she was too shy to ask for. Their tongues explored each others mouths, caressing, loving and expressing what words alone could not. The passion seared their skin, and was visible in their eyes when they broke apart, gasping for breath. He loved her flushed face...her expressive eyes conveyed so much.

Bill sat on the porch swing, bracing his back against the armrest, and stretching one leg along the length of the seat. Hermione settled with her back against Bill's chest, and he wrapped his arms possessively around her. They talked for hours. He told her how it had taken their last discussion a week to sink in. He'd then packed Fleur's things and cried her out of his present life. It took him another week before he could once again touch his wand and use magic. He'd helped the villagers with their problems and rented out his cottage. She told him how she'd waited for him to come home every day since she'd come back, and how she'd wake up before dawn and go to sleep long after dusk. She told him all the things nobody had asked her about. She let him into her life, into her heart, into her soul. She understood that he had his reservations, and that he might never wholly love her, but she knew that he loved her all the same.

It would take getting used to having someone in their lives again, but they knew they were ready to let go of the ghosts of the past, to pick up the pieces, and live for each new day. For now, however, they had each other, and that's all that mattered, because they finally were complete.


End file.
